The Sting
by beachmomma77
Summary: What happens when the person planning the Sting becomes the victim?


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Written for Safewordisdevilssnare.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

Draco merely rolled his eyes when he'd heard his partner exclaim. Since they'd gotten assigned to work on the Yaxley case, Hermione has done a fine job complaining about every little thing he did. Today, she took it up a notch, especially since they'd been told to go undercover as American tourists on a honeymoon in Mauritius, where Yaxley was supposed to be hiding at. He set his luggage on the floor right beside his side of the bed and started fixing his stuff.

"We're on a mission, Malfoy, and you're busy putting away your beauty products!"

"Granger, trust me," the blond Auror said calmly, as he neatly arranged his things on top of the nightstand. "I'm not exactly very happy with this set-up myself."

"What do you mean by that?" the feisty frizzy-haired war heroine asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

Draco shook his head. He's had many an argument with the brightest witch of her age over the past year they'd worked together. Their arguments range from petty to extremely heated, which almost cost them their jobs at one point. He wasn't about to have that now, especially since they were so close to capturing Yaxley.

"Granger, I don't know what your problem is, but I'm not about to blow up our cover," he said in a sharp whisper. "You better roll with it or we both lose our jobs."

"I would Avada you if you weren't an Auror yourself," the willowy brunette said before she heaved a sigh of resignation and made her way to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a bath so please don't bother me."

Good. Maybe that would loosen up the stick that's evidently been shoved way up her arse, he thought as he took the folder containing the leads for Yaxley from his bag to go over them. He was just about to start reading when he heard the water running, followed by a rustled sound of clothes dropping to the floor… and then a sigh. A sound that went straight to his groin, and stirred it to life.

The Senior Auror felt his heart race. Never in a million years did he think he'd have this reaction to Hermione-fucking-Granger! Sure, she was quite a looker - she had a pretty face, firm breasts that he imagined would fit his hands just right, a tight bum that he can squeeze as he pounded on her, long legs that would wrap around his hips perfectly…

No, Draco, he scolded himself as he felt his muscles tightening. This is not happening! Down boy!

But the blasted witch wasn't going easy on him. Hermione started humming a tune he'd never heard before. It was captivating - like a siren calling. He sighed, took the documents and started for the bathroom to address his problem once and for all.

He saw her lying in a fragrant bath. The tub was filled of bubbles and petals, but he could see her pink nipples hardening from the cool air. He bit his lower lip. With her eyes closed, she hummed as she raised her right leg to scrub. Draco watched and shifted in his discomfort. His partner - the uptight bint - was a sight to behold.

Draco came back to his senses when he noticed her humming had become softer. He had to think fast. Stepping back a few steps, he held the door and pretended to have just arrived.

"Granger, about Yaxley -" he docked right on time as she threw the washcloth at him after screaming.

"Malfoy! I'm taking a bath here," she said, leaning against the tub to shield her body from him. "Go away!"

"This can't wait, Granger," he said.

"Really?" she said exasperated. "Alright give me a minute. Alone please."

"Actually this won't take a minute," he replied.

"Actually, I think it will," she countered, subtly noticing the bulge between his legs.

He smirked. She'd caught on quick. "I have a theory about us I'd like to explore."

"What is it, pray tell."

He pulled the chair on the vanity set and sat facing her. "I think I know why you're always upset with me, but I'm gonna have to test my theory to be sure."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Test it? You know we barely have time to test our theories in our line of work," she said lazily. "I'm getting cold. While you're here, do you mind giving me something to put on?"

Draco simply nodded, grabbed a pair of fuck-me stilettos, and handed it to his partner in crime. He smiled deviously when he heard her gasp while he walked back to his seat. Ever so coolly, he sat and raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who looked at him like she was either going to kill him or torture him. The blond Auror thought he was fine either way.

"Well?"

"Well, you handed me a pair of shoes," she exclaimed.

"Astute observation, Granger. You did ask for anything you can wear," he said, folding his arms and leaning back to watch her.

"Malfoy, I'm cold!"

"I'll warm you up," he winked. "Well? Where's the Gryffindor courage?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew defeat when it stared at her right in the face. Sighing, she stood from her bath, the drops of water running down her face, neck, down to her full and firm breasts, her toned tummy… even lower to her smooth pussy, which she had spelled hairless, down to her long legs. She was every bit of the goddess he imagined she was.

The svelte and sassy Auror then moved to slip on the stilettos he'd given. Draco watched anxiously as she turned her back on him. When Hermione bent to fix the straps of her shoes, giving him a good view of her clit in between her wet folds, he knew he had to have her.

Soon, Hermione turned and walked towards Draco in all her naked glory. It was her turn to smirk at the sight of her partner flushed and horny. She may have lost the battle, but she knew she was going to win the war. Tonight she will mark him, and he will have no other mate than her.

"Alright, Malfoy," she said huskily as she stood in front of him. "I'm ready to test your theory."

The end.


End file.
